A broken Toy
by Haberschnack
Summary: A small smile flashed over his smooth features. "He is awake, but try to be quiet, he's not used to loud or foreign noises." Some Slade/Robin no slash, sorry
1. A Broken Toy

**Disclaimer: I don't own TT!**

So, some dark and angsty stuff for you! I hope you're able to understand it...my English is bad, but I needed to get this out!

I'm not steeling ideas or copy them! This one shot is for all those great authors out there who made me read theire stories all night long! You are the best!

Okay, enough babbling, have some fun!^^

* * *

**A broken Toy**

It's dark. I like it when it is like that.

I don't like the light anymore. It hurts my eyes.

I stay in the dark.

It's warm. I like it that way.

I hate cold places. I get stiff and sleepy.

So I like it nice and warm.

It's silent. It's not always like this.

Sometimes there is a voice. Laughing and mocking.

I like the silence.

I don't like to sleep. I stay awake.

When I close my eyes HE will be back. HE will haunt me again.

I hate to fall asleep.

So I close my eyes when they turn on the light.

I pull my blanket closer when they take my arm.

I shut out all sounds, curl into myself.

And when they give me a shot to make me sleep, I pray.

Pray HE wont come!

* * *

It started a few years ago. I don't know how many. I lost track on counting them.

It started with nightmares.

Simple ones. Like you being chased around and can't get any faster. You want to scream but your voice is muffled and then you fall down endlessly. You fall and suddenly hit the ground. You wake up knowing everything was only a dream. Nothing more, nothing serious.

But mine got different after a while.

After that dust incident.

My friends saved me that time. They were able to bring me back to reality. But it wasn't for long.

HE came back. Only at night in my dreams.

HE came back to chase me, but I couldn't get faster.

HE came back to mock me, so I screamed, but there was no voice to hear.

HE came back to push me over the cliff and I fell. I fell deep, but never hit the ground.

It didn't stop. The nightmares came every night.

I told Raven about it. She tried to help me. She did her best. I knew it. She fought HIM.

But HE was too strong.

I don't blame Raven for my fate. No one did anything wrong. My friends were the last who tried to see me as a normal person. Not a freak. They tried to live with my growing insanity.

But it was for nothing.

A year. Only one year I was able to suppress HIM to stay sane.

It was exhausting. The nights were terrifying. I tried to stay awake as long as I could. HE waited for me to close my eyes, to fall asleep. To chase me, to mock me, to hurt me.

Each time it got worse.

Finally I called Bruce.

I told him what happened with the dust. What happened to me. I cried when he said I should leave my team. I couldn't be their leader anymore.

He came to pick me up the same day.

I was furious, but I didn't show it. I smiled and told my friends I would be alright. I would be back in a view days, cured and able to be their leader once again.

They trusted my words.

I never kept this promise.

Bruce. He stops by once in a while. He is the last one who hopes I will get better.

I disappointed him. Greatly.

He would never admit it but I see it in his eyes every time he sees me. Sees my frail figure, my unkept long hair and my eyes. My hollow blue eyes.

He thinks it's his fault. It isn't. How could it be his, when I was the one who couldn't stop himself from chasing a mad man in a Two-toned mask.

I wont blame him, ever.

After Bruce took me in once again, I thought I was getting better.

The nightmares weren't that sever anymore and I relaxed a bit.

It stayed like that two or three months. Not longer.

HE came back. Not in real live but in my dreams. And after a while he broke out of them.

When I was able to wake up HE was still looming over me, mocking me. HIS voice was every where. It chased me through Wane manor. Out into the grounds until I couldn't run anymore. Bruce came after me every time, carrying me back to the manor.

He suffered greatly. I know it. It hurt him to see me like that.

I was ashamed of myself. For my inability to fight HIM. To stand my ground and chase HIM away. Defeat HIM.

I couldn't. I can't.

I never will!

Bruce brought me to some experts. It was hard to explain the whole story without giving away my identity as Robin. How to explain that the man who is chasing you in your dreams, hurting you on a physical level, is your arch enemy.

Those hours were for nothing. They didn't help with anything.

They gave me drugs, which made me dizzy and a better prey for HIS torture.

I couldn't stand it any longer.

I gave up.

Alfred found me bleeding on the floor. I knife in my left hand.

He and Bruce patched me up. Took my promise I'd never do it again. I kept it. I really tried hard. Sadly not for long. I did it again.

I cut myself. Tried to drown in a pond. To suffocate, to break my neck or to jump from the roof.

Each time Al or Bruce stopped me or patched me up again.

It broke their hearts.

Alfred's literally. He had a heartattack and is bearly recovering.

Bruce wasn't able to help me. No one is.

But he doesn't stop to tell me it will be okay. I will be okay.

I never will.

They locked me away in psychiatric ward. Not as Robin. Richard Grayson is the name on my cell door.

I kind of like it here. They are nice and leave you alone. But they always give you sleeping pills or other drugs.

The nightmares are as bad as ever but HE doesn't haunt me while I'm awake anymore.

But HE's still there. Waiting behind my closed eyelids.

So I stay in the dark. Stay awake, pulling my blanket around me to keep me warm and ignore every sound. I don't want to hear HIM. I'm afraid to hear HIM when I'm awake once again.

I'm afraid HE will keep HIS promise and take me away.

To be HIS plaything, HIS toy.

* * *

The young doctor opened the door with one of his many keys. For other people it must look like a miracle for him to find the right one for a particularly keyhole.

He cracked it a bit open and peered into the dark room. A small smile flashed over his smooth features. "He is awake but try to be quiet, he's not used to loud or foreign noises." he sternly told the man behind him.

The tall man in a dark suit nodded his understanding and followed the younger one into the cell. The room was big. Bigger then the others in this facility. After awhile their eyes got used to the darkness around them and the younger one closed the thick steel door .

On the far wall opposites the door stood a single bed. It was the only furniture in the white room. There was no window only a shattered light bulb on the high ceiling.

The occupant of the cell was no where to be seen. But the doctor knew where to look.

He walked to the bed and kneeled down in front of it. He waved his quest to his side and crouched down. The tall man did the same and peered under the small bed.

At first there was only darkness. But suddenly two pale blue eyes appeared out of it. They were empty, no emotion in them but when they fell onto the doctor a small glimmer of recognition flickered to life. They ignored the unusual guest and narrowed quizzically.

The doctor smiled a bit and reached a hand under the bed.

"Come on Richard. It's Wednesday, time for your quick check!" he whispered in a cheerful voice.

The pale eyes blinked a view times before they closed and a small noise could be heard. It sounded like a yes, spoken with a voice that isn't used to talking.

The doctor and his guest stood while the patient crawled out from under the bed, a blanket around his body.

He stood on shaking legs, a small, frail figure with slouched shoulders. The doctor kept smiling and made him sit on the bed. The black haired figure griped his blanket a bit tighter and sat down. His eyes were fixed on his feet where his pale toes curled on the heated floor.

The doctor crouched in front of the younger one and extended a hand to him.

"Richard, can you give me your right hand, please?" he asked in a whisper. The other nodded once and pulled his right hand out from under blanket.

Five thin fingers, wrapped in a white bandage, appeared. The doctor nodded pleased and took them in a gentle hand. Slowly he unwrapped the bandage and brushed the long sleeved shirt up to the elbow. Bruised and bloodied skin appeared under the bandage. It was healing but looked pretty painful. The doctor examined the wound closely in the darkness, caressing the injured skin and bruised knuckles. The young man on the bed endured the procedure without a flinch or a sound. When he was finished with the wounded hand he wrapped a new bandage around it and placed it in the young mans lap. "It's going to be okay and will be healed when Mr Wayne visits. We don't want to frighten him, do we?" he smiled and patted the untidy black hair affectionately. Richard nodded absentmindedly, his eyes still fixed unto his feet.

"But the next time you will call for Pete or Harry when you are about to hit something, okay? The door isn't the best sparring partner." he joked but it was clear how serious he meant those words. The figure on the bed tensed visibly and pulled his right hand back under the blanket.

The guest, who watched the whole procedure in silence looked questioningly to the doctor. The man gave him a sad smile and stood up. "Richard was very active in all kind of sports and used to practice martial arts a lot. In some of his good moments he likes to train a bit, but often he hurts himself while hitting the door or kicking against the wall." he explained calmly, looking down onto Richard who was still on the bed. "Pete or Harry are two of our nurses who help our patients with some light sport activities."

The guest nodded and looked back to the one on the bed, not expecting two blue eyes looking back. Richard raised his head a bit and was watching the unfamiliar man with a small hint of curiosity in his hollow blue orbs. Black hair framed the pale and thin face. Pale lips were parted, his small chest rising and falling slowly. "Who...is he..." a voice rasped nearly unheard.

The doctor was surprised and a full grin flashed over his face. He stepped back, next to his guest who seemed to be nearly as surprised as him and pushed him a step forward. "This is Dr. Wilson. He is a well known psychologist and wants to learn more about your condition." the doctor explained to his patient. Richard only stared a few seconds, before he suddenly turned around and hid completely under his blanket.

His doctor sighed sadly and shook his head. "'Til tomorrow Richard." he said and motioned the other man to follow him.

Out side the cell, the door closed and locked properly, he gave the taller man a happy smile. "It's totally unusual for him to ask about a stranger. Normally he would wait a few weeks or he never seems to notice a change. It took me over a month to be recognized by him!", he grinned. Dr. Wilson gave a short nod and copied his smile.

"How long has he been here now?", he wanted to know and turned his head to look at the cell door. "Nearly four years. He came to us when he was 18. His mentor, Bruce Wayne, brought him here after Richard's sixth suicide attempt. Mr. Wayne visits him every month."

Dr. Wilson nodded again, his right hand gripping his white goatee in a contemplative manner.

"His schizophrenia started when he was 16. He started to hear a voice, only in his dreams but soon this voice got a body and hunted him in his wake. Richard's tormentor, he calls him Slade, is a very aggressive person. It's a very uncommon case of schizophrenia where the voice is that violent. We were able to stop most of Richards hallucinations, but this Slade still haunts him in his dreams. He avoids sleeping longer than an hour."the young doctor went on. A sad expression on his face. "There are times he is catatonic, not able to move, followed by a very intense episode of violent temper..."

„...where he hurts himself. I see. A very interesting case indeed. I would love to get to know him better." Dr. Wilson grinned enthusiastically. The younger one grinned back and turned to walk down the hall.

"We would love to welcome you in our team and Richards reaction towards you was a good sign. Maybe you will be able to reach him." he smiled over his shoulder.

Dr. Wilson gave a short laugh and followed him down the hall.

* * *

I don't know why but this man... I know him somehow. His built, his walk, even his smell. I know it from somewhere.

So I asked...but his name, Wilson, never heard it.

But those eyes. They were grey. Two of them, where I normally see only one. I don't get it, but there is this feeling I should know this guy.

I should be afraid of him.

* * *

Three weeks later.

Dr. Wilson strode down the dark and empty hall, his white lab coat fluttered behind him.

It was late at night. Every patient on this floor was sedated or too exhausted to be awake. The staff had a breake and would only come in case of an emergency. The perfect time to make a visit.

It wasn't like he hadn't seen his patient in all those weeks. He visited him every day to study the young man. He never said a word and neither did the other one. But today he thought it would be time. Time to get him back.

A stopped a few feet in front of a cell door and rubbed his right eye. It itched. He sighed and pulled the glass out of the socket. None of his new colleges had really noticed his fake eye and when then they didn't try to talk to him about it. No one knew who he really was and what he was about to do. He grinned and took a white patch out of his jeans pocket. After he placed the small patch over his empty eye he took the last steps to the door.

Without a knock he opened it with a key and threw it wide open. Small rays of moonlight flooded into the dark cell from the hallway. It was enough light to see the small figure on the bed, covered with blankets. The man was certainly not asleep but his doctor was sure he wouldn't move an inch. Richard Grayson was catatonic again. Not unusual for a patient with schizophrenia. But his case was special. Normally those poor people were stuck with one, or two of the symptoms. Like voices who were whispering all kind of insults or critic, or emotionless, pared with a lack of socialism, or a case of catatonic and wild and destructive temper fits. But this poor man, laying in his bed had nearly everything.

No therapy would help him for a long time, his doctor was sure. His case was too special. His schizophrenia was mostly caused through a combination of traumatic events in his childhood, a good portion of paranoia and a foreign drug, no body knew about. The drug had been the major trigger. So the first thing one had to do to cure him was to get rid of the drug, which was still in the young man's system. And since they didn't know about the drug, which was, unlike others, a permanent affect on ones brain, you would never be able to help him.

But he knew. He knew about the drug and it's effect. It was his invention after all. He had the antidote and the rest could be cured in it's own time.

HE would be his again. His toy.

Dr. Wilson reached into his coat pocket and pulled a phial with a clear liquid and syringe out of it. Slowly he made his way to his patient's bed.

The thin man laid there motionless. His eyes were half open and fixed onto the ceiling. Every muscle in his body was tensed up and stiff. It must be very painful to be that stiff. This could last for hours until one was able to move again.

The man smirked. How fortunate. Trapped in this state the young man wasn't able to do anything against him. Oh, he loved it when his prey struggled but in this case he enjoyed a submissive and a dutiful patient. It was easier, for both of them.

The younger one couldn't fight him and he needn't hurt him, more then he had to.

Without a word he pushed the blankets down to the young mans hips. His patient's eyelids fluttered nervously and blue orbs searched for the disturber. Once they found the older male they shot open, focusing on the syringe.

Dr. Wilson gave him an encouraging smile while he disinfected the younger one's arm.

He drew up the syringe with the clear liquid and held it up so his patient could see it. The blue eyes were wide with panic.

"It will help you." the tall man whispered. It was the first time he spoke and the younger one knew who he was and he was frightened.

"It'll help you Robin!" Dr. Wilson smirked and pushed the needle into a blue vein on the others arm.

Richard would have screamed if he was able to.

He would scream for help. He would scream because it hurt. He would scream because his nightmare was real. HE was back. HE was back to haunt him, to mock him, to play with him.

SLADE was back.

* * *

YAY!

Huff, it took me some time... but here it is, my first TT-ff!

Hope you liked it!

Criticism and correction would be wonderful. I really need help with my English! My teacher is too stupid and unable to translate or explain anything properly! Mostly it's me who has to explain the class what the text is about...I feel like a walking dictionary...but I doesn't help me with my writing skills! So, I hope you have some mercy with me!

Thank you al lot for reading and don't forget to subscribe!


	2. Glued together but barely whole

Okay, here is the second part! I know it took me toooooo long to write it but thank you all very much for all of your reviews, they helped me to end it, or is it the end? =)

We'll see!

Hope you like it!

_

Glued together but barely whole

It's light. I don't like it when it is like that.

I like the dark. It chases away the shadows.

I stay in the darkness.

It's warm. I don't like it that way.

I love cold places. I get tired and sleepy.

So I like it cold.

It's silent. It's now often like that.

Sometimes there is a voice. Mocking and taunting.

I like the silence.

I like to sleep. I hate to stay awake.

When I open my eyes HE will be back. HE will haunt me again.

I hate to wake up.

So I open my eyes when they turn on the light.

I push away my blanket when they take my arm.

I listen to the sounds and hope I wont hear his voice.

And when they give me a shot to make me sleep, I pray.

Pray HE wont come and wake me up again!

"Ah Mr. Wayne! A pleasure to see you!" the young Dr. exclaimed and shook the older mans hand. The well known playboy and billionaire smiled back politely and gave him a short nod.

"Good morning Dr. Blake. I hope you've got some good news." the older man said good naturally. It was too small to be certain, but there was something like hope in Bruce Wayne's eyes and young Dr. Blake wouldn't disappoint him. So the man made the billionaire sit in front of his desk and leaned forward to share the goodnews.

"Mr. Wayne I'm happy to tell you about your wards huge progress! He is starting to respond and is less violent, or catatonic. Dr. Wilsons therapy is working really good!"

Wayne nodded but kept his features in check. He had been disappointed before and was used to take more steps back after one step forward with Richards condition.

Dr. Blake knew how fragile Waynes trust was but he was hopeful. The last three weeks were amazing and he told Wayne so.

"Richard started to talk only four days ago. He asked the names of the staff and when you would come to see him again. He is more willingly to sleep and to eat in a regular manner. His nightmares seem to cease. This is a very, very good sign!" he cheered.

Bruce Wayne gave him an calculating look. "That sounds fantastic. But I'd like to see him myself." he said and the Dr. nodded, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Sure." He stood and Bruce Wayne followed him out of his office.

While they walked down the sunlit hallways some nurses and patients came along. Most of them were stable enough to be outside of their cells half of the day.

"You said something about a Dr. Wilson. I never heard of him, is he new?" Wayne asked out of curiosity. Long time ago he had given his permission to Dr. Blake, to treat Richard in every way he could and use every source to help his ward. Dr. Blake had brought many other specialists but non of them had helped much. This Dr. Wilson seemed to be some one relay-able.

Dr. Blake gave him one of his over sweet grins. "Dr. Wilson is a real genius. He is a well known mind specialist. His studies are only known by other speicalist and he only takes cases that are challening. We can be lucky to have him here and treating Richard so well." he explained.

"I'd like to meet him, after my visit with Richard." Bruce Wayne announced.

The Doctor suddenly made a sad face. "I'm sorry Mister Wayne, but Dr. Wilson isn't here today. He had to attend a family matter. He knew you were coming and would've loved to have a talk, maybe next time. After Richards good progress it would help if you come more often!"

Bruce Wayne took the information with a small smile. "Of corse!" he said and stopped next to the Doctor in front of a familiar room.

Dr. Blake took a large ring with keys out of his coat pocket and opened the door without searching for the right key. He gestured Wayne to take the lead.

The tall businessman stepped forward.

He was surprised. Normally it would have been dark in here. The light was always out. But today the small bulb on the ceiling flooded the big room with yellow but friendly light, showing every corner.

On the bed sat a thin figure. Bruce heart nearly stopped that moment when he laid eyes on his ward.

Richards hair was clean and brushed, tugged into a loose but fitting ponytail. His clothes were in order and his hands held a book in his lap. But the most astonishing thing were his eyes.

Richard looked directly towards them, his blue eyes full of knowledge and awareness. Not dull and lifeless. He knew who was visiting him.

But Bruce needed a double check. He took a cautious step forward.

He wouldn't startle the other. Not like the last time, when he had visited. But today Dick didn't back away or whimpered in fear. No, this time Dick gave him a tentative smile.

Bruce crossed the distant with two more steps, focussing his eyes only on his long lost son and partner. Bruce hands shook when he parted them to lay both onto the thin shoulders.

"Richard." he whispered.

The other nodded and smiled. "Hi Bruce."

His voice was a bit rough and unused but he was talking, not screaming.

Bruce smiled too.

"You know who I am, right?"

Richard nodded again and placed his book next to him, before he gestured him to sit on the bed.

"I think I can leave you alone for a while. I'll be in shouting distance if there is an emergency." the Doctor told them smiling and turned to leave the room.

When the door was shut again Dick's face turned serious.

"Bruce, you have to get me out of here. I'm under control again. I know what my halucinations are and what the reality is. I'm healthy as healthy as I can be, but only when you get me out of here." he told Bruce urgently.

The older one raised one eyebrow. "Dick, I can't imagine that you are recovered enough. You have been ill for years now and that we can even have this conversation is more than I have ever dreamed of! Dick, please, I'll get you out of here when we can be sure that you are stable! Okay?" He was desperate and understood his adoptivson's wish to be free again. But this recovery seemed a bit too fast, but still he hoped, he dared to hope, that everything would be fine once again.

Dick opened his mouth but closed it again, when Bruce shook his head. "Okay." he breathed, his shoulders tense and his head sank down. Bruce sighed and hugged the young man close.

"But I'm happy to see you so clear. It has been a long time since the last time. Alfred will be so happy to hear that!"

Dick inhaled quickly. "Bruce do you...do you have your communicator with you, I'd love to talk to him." he rasped, his voice full of hope.

Bruce smiled down at his young ward and friend, before he pulled out the small device. "Of course I have! And after that you have to tell me how you and this Dr. Wilson made so much progress in such a short time. Who is this man anyway?"

He didn't see Dicks flinch when he said the Dr.'s name while he was distracted with opening the device and calling Alfred.

The old Butler was on the phone and on the small screen in a second.

"Master Bruce! Is something wrong? Is there something with Master Dick? Don't tell me it is worse, not again! We have to take him home! I'll look after him 24/7..." started the old man in a hurry of concern.

Bruce gave a small chuckle and shook his head. "Calm down Al, everything is good. But there is some one who wants to talk to you." he said and gave the communicator to Dick, who was smiling happily.

Alfreds wrinkeld face broke emidiantly into a look of pure joy. Tears started to fall down his face when he came nearer to the camera to look at the young man, who was equally happy to see him.

"Master Dick, is that you? You look wonderfull my boy! I never hoped to see you like that again, a bit pale and thin but nothing we can't change with a few good meals and some sunshine and exercise! When will you come home?" Alfred was talking so fast that both darkhaired men had difficulties to follow.

"Hey Al, good to see you too!" Dick smiled and whiped away a tear. "I'm okay, I'll be fine and hopefully at home in a bit..." his voice cracked in the end and he had to give the communicator back to Bruce because of his shaking hands. Bruce looked at him with concern but Dick whiped his face with one of his long sleeve of his plain white shirt and smiled. "It's okay, just a bit overwhelmed. It's a bit new for me to have all those emotions back, but I'm really happy to be back." he told his family and reached for Bruce's hand.

The Wayne heir nodded and closed the connection to Alfred after a brief goodbye. He pulled Dick close once more befor they composed themselves and sat back on the bed.

"Now tell me about this new Doc.! He did wonders to you!" said Bruce, still holding Dicks smaler hand. The young man looked still too young for his age, which was also atributed by his now very thin physique.

Dick looked down and took a deep breath. "Yeah, Doctor …. Wilson tried some new methods, they apparently worked, don't know how and when, but suddenly I was lucid. ... I remembered everything. What I've done to myself and to you too, to my team... I hurt so many people... I feel guilty, but I'll make it good when I come home! Please Bruce take me home!" he pleaded again.

Bruce nodded, his chest thightening with anguish seeing him like that. "I promise! I'll come back next week and have a talk with this Dr. Wilson! We can talk on phone as often as you like! I will leave Dr. Blake with a Mobile for you, okay? You can talk to Alfred and even, when you want to some of the others! Your friends in Jump would be more than happy to see you again. Or Clark, he is buggering me constantly! You'll be home soon, Dick!" he told the young man and hugged him thoroughly.

Dick nodded, pressed to the broad chest and sighed, his shoulders sagging in relieve. "I'll wait." he said when Dr. Blake stepped back into the room.

He smiled and stopped next to them. "I see you are getting on quite well."

Dick nodded and thightend his hold on Bruce hand. The billionaire smiled but losend his grip.

"I'll come back next week, okay Dick?" he said. It was hard to leave when he knew that Richard was better, the last times he left short after arriveing because the young man started to panic, but now it was all so different. His brave sidekick smiled at him. "I'll see you then." Bruce promised and Dr. Blake walked him back to the door.

"See you soon, Dick." he said to Richard who nodded, his face pulled close in a brave mask, but his eyes were hopefull and a bit scared. Bruce tried to ignore it but Dicks face haunted him even after he had left the clinc and also new oders for Dr. Blake, together with a Mobile for Dick. He would see him soon and take him home, hopefully after a talk with his new Doc.

Wilson. This name was not uncommon but it ticked a particular memory of his. He would check this wonder medic when he got home. Alfred was sure waiting for a report as soon as he came back.

He should have screamed, raged, or just pleaded him not to go. Not now. He shouldn't leave him here. He had hoped. He had hoped, that Bruce would take him away. Away from this nightmare. Away from HIM.

But he couldn't scream or rage. There was no way out. Everyone left him alone in the end. Except of HIM. HE was there, always. In his dreams and now in his wake. He was there, watching, waiting, playing HIS game.

And he was still HIS toy.

The sun was still shining brightly from the summer sky when the tall doctor made his way down the long hall. The nurses who passed him by where either blushing or smiling but he never noticed any of them. He had a goal after all and non of those women where as interesting as his young patient.

He smirked when he reached the familiar door. He didn't knock, there was no need to do that, his prey already knew who was coming. It was afterall time for their daily check up.

The young man was sitting on his bed. Like most days. They were already past the hiding behind the door or under the bed to start a surprise attack.

Good boy.

He closed the door behind himself and stepped forward, arms behind his back. "Hello Richard. How are you today?" he asked politely.

The young man on the bed looked up. His blue eyes glowing with a new fire, which satisfied him more then anything else. "Drop this akt, Slade." he growled but lowered his head.

The false doctor grinned broadly. Oh how he loved thoses visits. When Robin was lucid enough to show some of his old fight.

He started to walk slowly towards the bed, stopping just an armlength away from Robin, towering over him. Robin stared down onto his hands, that were balled into thight fists. But he wouldn't attack, Slade knew this all to well.

The young man was more barking than biting. He was still too weak, to ill, too fritgthend. He would have never imagined Robin to be so pliant, so tame and at his mercy, and he would use Robins state to his full atvantage.

"I heard the bat came to visit. I'm very sad to have missed him. You can't know, but Bruce and I are something like old friends, old partners." Slade said, his voice calm and casual, like he was talking about the weather.

Robins thin shoulders tensed visibly. There was rage and confusion bubbling under his pale skin. Slade could see it, he would use it, to form the man like clay. To make him better, stronger and obedient.

"Oh, Bruce never told you, didn't he?" the tall man whispered. His voice cold and emotionless. "We had some very succesfull contracts together. Standing side by side, fighting back to back." he went on noting the shiveres running down Robins back. "We were comrades before he adopted you and even after that. He called me when he needed some one to do the dirty work, so he wouldn't break his oh so important oath!"

Robins reaction came instandly. He shot up, his fist aiming at Slades unprotected face, but the older man was still faster. He turned and captured the thin wrists with one hand, pushing the strugling body down onto the bed.

He was face to face with him, when he said his next words. Words that would break the frail man completely.

"Your Batman, Bruce Wayne, isn't your knight in shining armor. He wont come to rescue you, he left you here after all. Left you at the mercy of your nightmares! I pulled you out of them, I gave you back your mind, your will and I will give you back your strength, make you even stronger!" Robin jerked back but couldn't get away from the other man, who was still holding him down. His eyes were fixed onto the pircing grey ones above him. He trembled, sweat was flowing down his pale face. Slade smirked and leaned down to whisper in the man's ear.

"Trust me Robin, no Richard, I am here to save you! I am the one who will make you strong. You will become the man you always wanted to be! Independent, strong, stronger than the old Bat. No sidekick any more, with your own morals, your own peace, your own venegance!"

He let go of Richard and stepped back. The former hero was still lying motionless on the bed. His chest rising and falling in heaving breaths.

Slade watched him for a few minutes, before he turned, facing the door.

"It's time to choose, Richard Grayson. Who will you become? A second Batman, alsways behind him, crawling in his shadow... always the sidekick, or your own person, your own hero?" he said, still facing the door.

"You have time until tonight. I'll be back to hear your decision, Richard." were his last words, before he left the room and his patient.

He was wistling a chearful tune while he walked down the hall, smiling to himself.

Oh, how he loved it to play.

He stared at the ceiling, not blinking, only breathing. His mind was realing.

He wasn't able to form a single thought.

There were pictures of Bruce and Alfred, of his team, the Titans, of Superman and the JL and of Slade. Slade towering over him, watching him with his single grey eye. Always watching. Always waiting. Always pushing him to the limits and father.

Slade made him stronger, made him more aware and strickt with himself and his team. He was always on his toes. Always looking behind him and in the shadows, waiting for the next punch. Slade had been able to model him into a real fighter, without those petty tricks he was always so fond of. He showed him how to fight, how to survive.

It had been a long nightmare, but now he was free again, his mind was free. But he wasn't free, not now, maybe never. When he waited for Bruce to come and get him, would he be free? Would he ever be able to built his own person under Batmans wing?

He didn't know. What should he do? What should he choose?

What and who?

Dr. Blake looked up to the young man, seated infront of his desk. He smiled but also checked if the to male nurses were still outside of his office. He had seen the huge progress Dr. Wilson had with young Richard Grayson but he wasn't sure if he was stable enough to be outside of his room.

But he had promised Bruce Wayne that his ward would be able to call him on the mobile the man left. But he wouldn't leave his patient alone with the device, at least for the first few times. Richard could always have a setback and hurt himself with the phone.

He smiled and pulled the black device out of on of his drawers. "There you go. I'm sorry and I know that phonecalls are privat but you know, that it isn't save for you to be alone with it for now. Maybe next time. But don't worry I wont interrupt and stay silent while you talk and you can talk as long as you want." he told Richard while he handed the phone over.

Richard nodded, his face grim but there was greatfulness in his eyes.

There was only one number and Richard pressed the call button. His heart raced in his ears. He waited, holding his breath.

"Master Richard!" Dick wasn't sure if he should cry out of relive or anger. He was happy that Al was on the phone but he needed Bruce now more than ever. He needed to ask him something important.

"Hey Al, I'm sorry but is Bruce... is he there, I really need to talk to him!" he said, his heart still hammering hard in his ears. His lips were dry and his throat blocked by nervousness.

"I'm sorry Master Dick, Master Bruce is absent at the moment. I can't reach him, he is settling a very difficult contract." the old man said.

Richard knew this code. Batman was on patrol eventhough it was still broad daylight outside. It must've been something very severe for Batman to be active at this time. Maybe it was the Joker...

"Master Dick..."

"No, it's okay Al. Thank you. Just tell him that I called and that I liked to talk to him, today... when he is back, okay?" he murmured into the speaker.

"Of corse Master Dick! I'll tell him!" Alfred said, his voice full of happiness.

"Thanks, Al. See you soon!" Dick said.

"Yes, see you very soon! And Master Dick...!" Al called before Richard pushed the red button to end the call.

"Yes?"

A low chuckle vibrated through the line. "It's good to have you back, Richard! I am so happy! We are very happy."

Richard swallowed hard, but no words came over his lips.

"Good bye Master Richard."

The monotonous beeping sound signaled the end of the connection.

Richards hand was shaking when he handed the phone back to Dr. Blake, who looked at him with concern.

"Are you alright, Richard? Shall I call Dr. Wilson?" he asked, trying to look into Richards blue eyes that were facing down. The black haired man shook his head and looked up again.

"No, thank you. I'm okay." he said calming down visibly and slowing his breaths. "Could yo do me a favor, Dr. Blake?" hes said, smiling faintly.

The Dr. was more than happy to please. "Of corse, Richard." he said, smiling broadly.

"When Bruce calls back, can I talk to him, even if it's very late? I'd really like to talk to him!" he pleaded.

"Certainly, even if it's past midnight, Richard, I promise!" he said and stood.

His patient nodded his thanks and followed the male nurses out into the corridor, back to his room. 

Bruce didn't call. It was already dark outside. Everyone was asleep.

But not him. He was awake, sitting on the floor, waiting, wishing and hoping. He knew that it was late. Too late to back away from the decesion he made. The plan he had laid out infront of him. His freedom, his mind, his own person. What he wanted to be, to become.

He waited.

He waited for HIM to come. For HIM to end the game. To take HIS toy away.

The door opend slowly and a tall shadow was looming over the sitting person on the floor. Blue eyes fixated onto a single grey one.

One hand reached into the room, beckoning him.

The thin black haired men stood slowly, dusting of his pants. When he looked up again the blue eyes were glinting dangerously and a small grin flashed over his young features.

The grin was mirrored on the other face when he turned around, walking down the corridor, knowing he would follow.

Knowing HE had won. 

The End

_

There you are! I hope I was able to transport the mood from the first part into this one! I had my difficulties and wrote something really cheese, especially the part with Bruce and Richard... oh my good! I didn't delete it, but I pushed it down the page and started anew.

If some of you are wondering what was going on when Slade said that he had worked together with Batman at some point, that wasn't my imagination, or something I made up! I never read the comics...yeah, it's kind of hard to get the right ones here in Germany, but I know from other ffs and wikipedia, that Batman and Slade, or also known as Deathstroke, worked together at some points, or were enemies. I used it for Slade to push Robin over the edge. Bad mindgames! YAY!

If there are still questions, don't hesitate to ask me.

I'm not quite sure if there'll be a third part, but maybe the muse will hit me or a commentary will help me find the final closure to this ff.

Thank you all for reading and don't forget to supscribe!

See ya

TheButler

(CHEEESY!The tall man nodded and entered the room. He was surprised. Normally it would be dark in here. The light was always out. But today the small bulb on the ceiling flooded the big room with yellow but friendly light, showing every corner. On the bed sat a thin figure. Bruce heart might have stopped that moment when he laid eyes on his ward. Richards hair was clean an brushed, tugged into a loose but fitting ponytail. His clothes were in order and his hands held a book in his lap. But the most astonishing thing were his eyes. Richard looked directly in their direction, blue eyes full of knowledge and awareness. Not dull and lifeless. He knew who was visiting him.

Suddenly he put the book away, stood from the bed and ran towards Bruce, who was more then shell shocked. Thin arms were thrown around his waste and a lithe body crushed into his. "Bruce"

The man couldn`t believe his eyes or any other sense. Was it real? After four years of Richards constant withdraw into himself and his nightmares, this was something new. Something which made him hope everything was going to be okay.

"Richard.", he whispered, tears welling up in his eyes. They wouldn't fall, but he was overwhelmed with the joy he felt because of Richards reaction.

"I`ll wait in my office.", Dr. Blake announced and left the room, leaving the door a bit open.

Both men didn´t notice his leave. They were to deep in their own happiness. "Richard.", Bruce whispered again. "Robin...you are back! Please tell me this isn´t a dream." He could hear a faint chuckle. "Nope bats, this is real live.", the younger one said, his voice not more then a whisper. Bruce shook his head and smiled. Oh, how he had missed him.)

"


End file.
